


Holiday in the Sun

by EloiseReed



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Superman/Batman (Comics)
Genre: 5+1 Things, A lot of sex, Closet Sex, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Light Bondage, M/M, PWP, Secret Relationship, Sex on a Car, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 13:41:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4437656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EloiseReed/pseuds/EloiseReed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Superman gets all hot and bothered after a trip to the Sun. Bruce takes the heat. Then he gets his revenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote this in 2006. I had posted it on my livejournal at the time (I used to use a different pen name), but never anywhere else so I've decided to post it here. It's shameless, dirty porn. Really, just filthy.
> 
> It's sort of set in JLU verse? Kind of? Kind if just random comic-verse. You can set it wherever you like.

"Batman, it's Oracle. Are you there?"

"Batman here. Did you get anything off of that disc I gave you?"

"Eventually. I wouldn't beat yourself up too much about not being able to crack it yourself. The programming is ingenious."

Bruce stood half-dressed in the cave, preparing to go out for the night. Where he would go depended largely on what Oracle found on that disc.

"And?"

"I think you should probably see it for yourself."

"I'll be there shortly." As he said it, Bruce felt strong arms wrap around him from behind, and hot breath on his ear.

"Tell her you'll be a little late," said an unusually seductive voice.

Bruce moaned as warm lips pressed hard against his neck, sucking under his jawbone.

Oracle's concerned voice came through the earpiece. "Batman, are you alright? Where are you?"

"Tell her you're in good hands," Superman breathed as he moved one hand down Bruce's bare chest, another up his thigh.

"I'm fine," he said as evenly as possible, "Batman out."

Superman spun him around and took his mouth as soon as the comm link was broken. The kiss was hard and possessive, and Bruce's cock responded immediately. This was a new side of Superman. Usually Clark was tender, hesitant, even nervous during their encounters. Now it was like Bruce was being kissed by pure fire, dangerous and unyielding.

Suddenly it clicked.

"You've been to the sun," he managed to gasp before Clark could attack his mouth again.

"Mmmm...good guess," Clark murmured, holding Bruce's head in his hands. His blue eyes, almost florescent, were eying Bruce as if he were dessert. "I've got a lot of excess energy that I need to burn off."

Bruce wanted to say that now wasn't a good time, but his cock was telling him that now was a _great_ time, and it was hard to ignore logic like that.

"You know," Clark said in a low voice, moving his hands slowly down Bruce's sides, "We've never fucked in the Batcave."

Bruce was hearing things. There was no way Superman just said "fuck." As a verb. In his ear. In the Batcave.

"I didn't know you knew that word, Clark," he said, his voice hitching as Clark's tongue ran across a nipple.

"I'm going to show you how well I know that word, Bruce," Clark's voice was low and commanding, and was making Bruce absolutely fucking crazy.

"In _here_?" Bruce asked, closing his eyes and feeling all sense leave him. He relaxed his body and let Clark do whatever he wanted with it.

"Oh yes," Clark said, grabbing Bruce by both hands, "I've been thinking about this the whole way back from the Sun. And that's a long trip, even for me. I know _exactly_ what we're going to do."

He pushed him onto the hood of the Batmobile, placing Bruce's outstretched arms on the windshield above his head.

"Keep them there," he ordered as he slid his hands down to Bruce's waistband. With one fluid motion Bruce's tights were removed, leaving him naked on the hood of his car.

"Even better than I imagined," Clark whispered as he stood above Bruce, running his eyes over him. Bruce saw Clark's tongue poke out and wet his lips. Bruce shivered against the cold metal of the car, but more from anticipation than temperature.

Clark removed his own cape, and slowly removed the rest of his costume, dropping each piece on the floor behind him. He never took his eyes off Bruce. Just stared at him with an intensity that came close to making Bruce uncomfortable. At this point Bruce was so aroused it would take Clark suddenly growing horns and a tail to make him uncomfortable. And even then...

Clark was completely naked, his skin almost glowing. Bruce reached out a hand to touch him, but found his arm back above his head before he barely moved it.

"I _said_ ," Clark spoke slowly, "Keep them there." His voice was teasing, but had an edge that made Bruce decide that he wouldn't try moving his arms again.

"Bruce, you should see yourself right now," Clark said, still looming over him, "I've never seen anything more beautiful in my whole life." He smirked, "I suppose you will be able to see yourself later. There's no shortage of surveillance cameras in here. Now you'll have something interesting to watch."

Bruce made a squeaking noise that would have been embarrassing, but he was far beyond that now. He needed Clark to touch him, if he wasn't allowed to touch Clark. He needed contact. He needed release. He feared for what was left of his sanity.

Clark's mouth collided with his own. He felt a hand slam against the car next to his shoulder. That would be a dent. Not that he cared. About anything. Other than the long fingers that were _finally_ wrapping around his aching cock.

"I'm going to fuck you, Bruce. Right here on the hood of your car, in the Batcave. Is that alright with you?"

"Please," Bruce gasped, "Yes."

"You've thought about this too, haven't you Bruce?"

"Yes," Bruce grunted, although maybe in his fantasies Clark was the one spread out on the car. He had never even considered their positions reversed, with Clark taking control and making Bruce beg for it. Bruce was upset with his imagination for holding out on him.

Suddenly there was lubrication from somewhere. Didn't matter where. Lord knows Clark probably brought it with him. Always prepared. Bruce felt slick fingers press against him, press inside him. His mouth fell open, letting out a noise between laughter and pain. One long finger hit a spot inside him that made his cock jerk and his teeth clench. He needed more.

"Clark, please. I'm ready. I need you..."

Clark pushed slowly inside him, filling him. As Clark started moving, Bruce knew he wasn't going to last long. It was just too much, this lecherous version of Superman, over-charged on pure sunlight, kissing Bruce and fucking Bruce like everything in the world depended on it. Bruce's mind was gone. The whole world could crumble away and die, leaving nothing but Clark fucking him on this car, and that would be fine.

He shuddered at his own dark thoughts. Clark pushed harder, deeper, his eyes fixed on Bruce's own.

"I want to touch you," Bruce said.

Clark nodded silently, his eyes closing as he gave permission. Bruce grabbed handfuls of Clark's hair and pulled their mouths together.

"Fuck, Bruce," Clark said, "This is so perfect. You're so perfect."

Bruce cried out as he came, his voice echoing off the walls of the cave.

Strong hands held Bruce's hips as Clark's back arched. He felt the heat of Clark coming inside him as Clark yelled Bruce's name.

Clark collapsed on top of Bruce, kissing him feverishly again and again.

"So beautiful, Bruce," he murmured between kisses, "Love you."

Bruce wrapped his arms around the Man of Steel. They stayed like that for a few silent minutes, just breathing.

"I have to get out there," Bruce said finally.

"I know," Clark sighed, pushing himself off of Bruce, standing.

"Do you plan on visiting the sun again anytime soon?" Bruce asked, his mouth twitching upwards, as he sat up.

Clark smiled as he pulled his suit on, "It was an extra long visit this time. I still feel like I have some energy to burn off."

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

"God help me."


	2. Day 2

When asked, Batman always said the showers in the Watchtower had extra hard water pressure for the benefit of the metas with super strength. Really it was for Bruce. He loved these showers.

He closed his eyes as the hot water pounded him, then opened them to discover he wasn't alone.

"Clark!"

"Bruce."

"What are you doing in here?"

"All the other ones were taken," Clark's voice was playful.

"No they weren't," Bruce argued, somewhat distracted by the trickles of water that were running over Clark's naked, sculpted body.

"Shut up, Bruce," Clark said, cutting off further protest with a long kiss.

"What if someone sees us?" Bruce whispered, trying to remain rational.

"Are there cameras in here?" Clark asked calmly.

"No."

"Good, because I was thinking about what we did yesterday in the cave. I've been thinking about it all day."

Bruce shuddered as Clark's hand slid down to find his already-hard cock.

"Still have some left-over energy from the Sun," Bruce observed.

"Tons."

"Fine," Bruce surrendered, "But no more talking. Someone could hear us."

Clark raised an eyebrow, smirking, "Alright," he whispered, "Whoever makes a sound first loses."

"I'm not playing games," Bruce protested, pretending that the idea didn't make him even more turned on.

"Starting now," Clark said, ignoring him. He covered Bruce's mouth with his own.

_Fine_ , Bruce decided with his last of scrap of coherent brain activity, _If he wants to play games, we'll play. And he'll lose._

He pushed Clark against the wall, biting down on a spot on his neck that always made him moan. He curled a finger behind Clark's balls and stroked. He saw Clark bite his lip. Bruce smirked and moved his mouth down to Clark's nipples. He could feel him tremble under his hands and under his lips. There was nothing better in the world than being able to make the invulnerable Man of Steel tremble and moan and beg. Bruce pushed their cocks together, needing the pressure as he watched Clark struggle to stay silent.

Then Clark's expression changed. His eyes opened, a grin spreading across his face. He gave Bruce a wink then dropped down to his knees. Bruce barely had time to bite down on his fist before Clark's mouth was wrapped around his cock, his tongue making long strokes down and over the head. Bruce slammed his free hand against the wall in front of him, bracing himself as he clenched his eyes shut. Clark was pure evil, clearly playing to win. Bruce was ok with that, but he still wasn't going to let him win.

Even if he had the rest of his life to do it, Bruce could never possibly describe in words how good a blowjob from Superman is. Not only because Clark was...gifted...in so many ways, and could do things with his mouth that no other being could possibly do. It was also just knowing that the most powerful man on the planet, maybe in the universe, was, at that moment, on his knees sucking your cock. Bruce knew that was a dark and egotistical way to think about it, but there was no way to not think about it. Superman was...

...oh God. Making his _breath cold_. Making Bruce inhale sharply, and that didn't count as a sound so don't even try to say you won, Boyscout. If it sounds like running water, it doesn't count.

Bruce had to stop this if he was going to stay in the game. He had to get the upper hand. Even though his whole body was saying "fuck the game" as Clark sucked harder, licked faster. He was thrusting into Clark's mouth without even realizing it. His hand left his mouth and buried itself in Clark's wet hair. The hot water continued to beat down on them as Bruce felt himself drift closer and closer to the edge.

Normally this would be the point where Bruce would regain control, turn the tables and make it clear who the boss was. There was nothing normal about what was happening right now. Bruce only ever had control over Clark because Clark gave it to him. He allowed Bruce to believe that he had some sort of power over him, and right now Clark was reminding Bruce who really had all the power. On his knees, making what would usually be considered a submissive position look so authoritative. His eyes fixed hard on Bruce's, daring him to make a sound. Letting him know that he would break as soon as Clark wanted him to, and that he would lose this battle.

Bruce felt pure heat flow through his body, starting behind his eyes. His muscles tensed, he returned his hand to his mouth and bit down as everything was ripped out of him and flooded into Clark's mouth. He clenched his eyes, punched the tile wall, and swallowed the noise that threatened to erupt from him.

Clark stood. "I'm impressed," he said against Bruce's ear.

"You spoke," Bruce pointed out, "You lose."

"Mmm...Then I guess I'll go out in a blaze of glory." Clark grabbed Bruce's hand and placed it on his cock, kissing Bruce hard.

Bruce moved his hand quickly. He knew Clark liked it as hard and fast as possible. With the edge off himself, Bruce had a chance to contemplate how wrong this was. Clark was acting strange. He had a reasonable explanation for it, and he seemed harmless enough, so there probably wasn't much call for concern. But how long was this going to go on for? Days? Weeks? A year? Bruce couldn't afford to be a full-time Kryptonian sex toy. No matter how much he might be ok with that.

Bruce decided to stop over-thinking things as Clark rocked into his hand, whispering dark promises of what he would do to him next time. His voice was rough, his speech wild and scattered.

"...fuck you everyday, Bruce...in my apartment...in the sky...in every room of that fucking mansion...tie you up and make you beg for it..."

Bruce's breath hitched. He gripped harder, moved faster. Wanted to kiss Clark but didn't want him to stop talking. Couldn't believe that Clark, _Superman_ , had suddenly become such an expert in dirty talk.

Finally a violent shudder ran through Clark's body and he came hard against Bruce's stomach. A large crack crawled up the wall, splitting the tiles, as his mighty hand hit them. Already assured victory, Clark didn't bother to muffle the anguished cries that burst from him.

"Shhhh," Bruce hissed, authentically concerned about their privacy, but unable to keep from grinning.

Clark kissed him, and smiled.

"That was just a quickie. I intend to take my time with you next time."

"Next time? When might that be?"

Clark winked before exiting the shower. "Keep your schedule open."


	3. Day 3

Bruce got into bed around 4am, trying to ignore the nagging disappointment that Clark hadn't made good on any of the promises made in the shower yesterday.

He reasoned that the excess energy Clark was storing from the sun must have finally worn off. He knew that was probably a good thing, but had a hard time convincing himself.

Bruce awoke an hour later to find himself spread-eagle and naked on top of the blankets. His arms and legs were attached with long ties to the four bedposts. And Clark was there, sitting between Bruce's legs, wearing nothing and smiling calmly.

"Clark! What the hell..."

"Hi, Bruce. Sorry I'm late."

"Late? How did you...untie me!"

"Sorry, Bruce. I can't do that. You look too good like this."

"Dammit, Clark," Bruce growled, struggling uselessly against the ties.

"Oh, you won't break those knots," Clark said, his tone amused, "Boyscout and all that."

It wasn't that Bruce minded Clark's sudden interest in bondage, it was just that he hated knowing that Clark was able to do all this to him while he was asleep. Unfortunately his cock wasn't able to stay mad at Clark, which sort of weakened his argument.

Clark crawled up Bruce's body, holding something.

"What are you doing?" Bruce asked, watching as Clark dabbed his finger in the small pot of black grease paint he now held in plain view.

Clark reached out his finger and ran it over Bruce's left eyelid, gently slicking it with the cool, thick cream. He did the same with the right eye.

"Where did you get that?" Bruce asked, watching Clark's face. It was filled with fascination as he carefully painted Bruce's eyes.

"Your make-up kit."

"Disguise kit," Bruce corrected, "How many new kinks am I going to learn about tonight?"

"We'll see." Clark's voice was distant as he studied Bruce's face. Bruce licked his lips nervously.

"What?"

In response, the Kryptonian ran his tongue, cold as ice, over the contours of Bruce's chest and stomach. His whole body jolted in response. The bedposts shook, but the knots held tight.

Clark moved his tongue down to Bruce's hips, his thighs, all the way to his ankles. Agonizingly slow. He avoided his cock, even though Bruce thought, at this point, it was pretty tough to miss.

"Clark, please..."

Eyes like blue flames met Bruce's. "Patience, Bruce. We'll get to that. I've been wanting to see you like this for a long time, and I intend to enjoy it for as long as I can."

It took Bruce a moment to notice that his mouth had fallen open. He closed it as soon as he realized, still trying to maintain the illusion that his brain was not melting. That even though he was tied up, spread out, naked, and painted like a whore, he was still in control of the situation. That the fact that Superman was gently scraping teeth that could eat a container ship up the insides of Bruce's thighs wasn't making him moan. Wasn't making his whole body shake. Wasn't making him thrust uselessly into the open air.

"You should see yourself, Bruce," Clark said, finally bringing himself up so they were face to face, "Your eyes look so incredible like this. No wonder your mask has lenses. Criminals would fall in love with you if they saw how pretty they look surrounded by black."

"Pretty?"

Clark smirked, "It's the best word for it. You would agree if you could see yourself, I'm sure."

"I doubt it."

Clark kissed him.

"I'm going to untie your legs because I want you to sit up."

"Why?"

"Because what I've been thinking about all day is what you would look like sucking my cock like this."

By now Bruce should really be getting used to this newer, bolder, dirtier Clark. But it was hard to prepare himself for statements like that coming from the Man of Steel. Bruce could only swallow as Clark untied his ankles. He moved himself up to a sitting position and Clark kneeled between his legs. He leaned down and kissed Bruce slowly. Bruce's cock would really like some attention, but it seemed that he had to earn it today.

"Are you watching?" Bruce asked, glancing up at Clark.

"Yes, Bruce. I don't want to miss a second." He ran a hand through Bruce's hair.

Bruce took Clark's cock in his mouth. He sucked hard, wildly licking and wishing he could reach out and touch and grab. He kept his eyes locked on Clark's. They were all that he had to control Clark with. His eyes and his mouth, which, for Bruce, were more than enough. He would make Clark understand that they were more than enough. Even in this position, Bruce could hold all the cards.

Above him Bruce heard sharp intakes of breath and low moans. Breathless, isolated words like "beautiful" and "mine" fell from Clark's lips as he fucked Bruce's mouth. One hand planted firmly in Bruce's hair, and the other finally, mercifully, finding Bruce's aching cock. Bruce let out a hiss of breath as he sucked, closed his eyes as Clark slid his hand roughly up and down.

Bruce's arms were tired. A lesser man might be in agony by now. He ignored the pain, then welcomed it. Invited it to be a part of what they were doing. Just another sensation rushing through his body, like the raw heat curling in his abdomen with each stroke of Clark's hand. With each profane outburst from Clark's mouth. With each careful thrust of Clark's hips into his mouth. He could see his indestructible legs tremble on either side of him, and he knew it wouldn't last much longer. For either of them.

Clark came into his mouth yelling Bruce's name between noises that sounded like crying. Bruce watched his face and swallowed endlessly. Clark's eyes were so big, like he couldn't believe what was happening, and it was amazing that any sensation could still excite Superman this way.

His hand kept a rhythm on Bruce's cock as Clark caught his breath. Somehow he managed to lose it during sex, which Bruce couldn't understand but didn't want to question. Didn't want to know if it was only an act. Didn't want to know anything except what Clark was thinking at that exact moment as he gazed down on him, then leaned down to kiss him.

"I want you to come, Bruce. Now."

Bruce's whole body arched off the bed as he came in bursts onto his own stomach. He was completely gone because Clark had decided to say that in his most Superman tone of voice. And that was too much. A stream of nonsense and obscenities flew out of Bruce's mouth. He might have asked Clark to marry him.

As Bruce struggled to regain his composure, Clark calmly got up and left the room, returning with a wet cloth. He used it to wipe Bruce's stomach.

"You know, if you untie me, I could do that myself."

Clark gave a small smile and reached up to casually slice a finger through both ties. Bruce was relieved to finally relax his arms, but let Clark continue to wash him because it actually was kind of enjoyable.

"I thought you were going to use that to wipe the make-up off."

"I thought you said it wasn't make-up."

"Shut-up."

A long kiss and then Clark was standing.

"I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow."

Bruce glanced up as he rubbed his wrists. Clark was already in full Superman costume.

"Tomorrow, as in later today?"

Clark grinned, "I don't want to spoil the surprise."

"I hate surprises."

"You'll like this one."


	4. Day 4

Bruce stifled a yawn as a man in a suit across the boardroom table talked endlessly about something or other. He always tried to be present at these quarterly review meetings, but he couldn't believe it had already been three months since the last one. Too soon to forget how bland they were.

He had given up on sleep after Clark left his bedroom early that morning. He managed to remove the grease paint from his eyes with some effort. It reminded him of the early years, before he enhanced the mask with white lenses to hide his eyes. He had nearly forgotten the days when he bothered to blacken his eyes every night.

He took a sip of coffee as another man argued the points brought up by the first man. He should be paying closer attention. This was his company. His father's company. He should be more interested.

"You must be dying of boredom," remarked a voice in his earpiece. Bruce coughed in response.

"It's ok. I know you can't answer me. I just want you to know that I'm thinking of you."

Bruce kept his face straight, but glanced around the table at the dozen or so other men and women. They couldn't hear this. He knew it, but he was still uneasy. Clark was so...unpredictable lately. He had promised to surprise Bruce today, and Bruce hated surprises.

"I've been thinking about you all day," Clark continued, "How amazing you looked this morning, all tied up and begging me to touch you. How hot you looked sucking me off."

Bruce bit his lip to prevent a moan from escaping. He cleared his throat.

"But I didn't take everything I wanted from you, Bruce. I had to leave before I was finished. And now I'm so turned on thinking about you I can barely stand it."

Bruce's tailored pants were getting less comfortable by the second. His face might have been getting a little red, too.

"How about you, Bruce? Are you having trouble paying attention to your meeting? Are you as hard as I am? Just cough if you are."

Bruce coughed. A little too loudly.

"Good," Clark said, his voice was low and seductive. It was strange, but Bruce could work with it. "It's really too bad there are so many people in there, because I would love to throw you down on that big table and make you forget all about stock options."

If Bruce could talk, he would point out that Clark really knew nothing at all about business and it showed. Or maybe he would just do what he was doing now, which was shuddering.

Bruce went for the water glass in front of him. His throat was suddenly a little dry. He needed Clark to shut up. But not so much that he was willing to remove the earpiece.

"What do you think they would say, Bruce, if they knew that only a few hours ago you had Superman's cock in your mouth? Do you think they'd be surprised?"

Bruce took another long drink of water and shifted in his seat.

"I'll tell you how they should feel. Jealous. Of me. Because I know what it's like when Bruce Wayne, Batman, _The Dark Knight_ takes all of his strength and determination and ambition and focuses it on making me absolutely lose my mind."

As discreetly as possible, Bruce slipped his hand under the table and pressed hard against his constricted erection. He was starting to care less and less if anyone noticed how aroused he was.

He lifted his coffee mug to his lips and held it there as he whispered, barely audibly, "You'll pay for this later."

"I hope so."

Enough was enough. Bruce had to excuse himself. He did so as quickly as possible, keeping his posture slightly hunched forward to hide the bulge in his pants.

He entered his office and closed the door, locking it behind him. Just to be extra cautious, he went into his private bathroom, locking that door as well.

"Surprise."

Bruce nearly jumped as he turned to face the man who was already in the bathroom.

Clark Kent leaned casually against the far wall, wearing a full suit and a smirk. He pulled off his glasses and folded them neatly before setting them on the sink. Then the jacked was slipped off onto the floor. Next the tie was loosened. Bruce stood, gaping, then found himself tearing off his own jacket and tie as he moved quickly toward Clark.

Their mouths came together hard. Hands pulling fabric and buttons flying. Large hands grabbed Bruce's ass and pulled his crotch against Clark's thigh. Bruce grunted and kissed Clark harder, almost viciously. He was angry. He was shaken. He was fucking lucky to be able to have this. No one else could have this. No one. And he told Clark so.

Clark reacted by pushing Bruce against the wall so he was facing it. A second later Bruce's pants were gone and it sounded like Clark had opened a bottle of lube.

_Did he just carry that around with him at all times?_

No time to think about it, much less ask, because Clark was already pushing into Bruce. Barely any preparation and it hurt, but Bruce could take it. He cried out against the wall as Clark wrapped a hand around Bruce's cock.

It wasn't usually like this. Normally Clark was happy to let Bruce fuck him. To let him take out all of the night's frustrations on his invulnerable body. Clark always seemed to enjoy the rare opportunity to be submissive. They both knew who  
really had the power, but Clark hid it well, always indulging Bruce and his need to control everything. Just like Bruce would indulge Clark's need to be controlled.

Now Clark was full to bursting with solar energy, and he wasn't giving Bruce a chance. And maybe Bruce didn't want one. Maybe this was what he had always needed. He didn't accidentally choose the most powerful being on the planet as his lover. There was always a part of him, buried beneath years of rage, that just needed to lose control. Just surrender himself to another person, even if just once in awhile.

But Clark would pay for this when the extra energy had finally burned off.

For now Bruce let everything go as Clark thrust into him hard against the wall, biting his neck and whispering things that would drastically change the public's opinion of their supposedly squeaky clean hero.

"Tell me you love it."

"I love it," Bruce gasped, "I love you."

"Tell me you'll never leave me."

"I won't. I'll never leave." They were just delirious, passion-fuelled statements. Bruce would have said anything at that moment, but Clark loved hearing it. Maybe Bruce even meant it.

"Nothing is better than this, Bruce. Nothing. Bruce!" Clark was coming deep inside him. Almost immediately Bruce followed, his legs buckling, but Superman's strong arms keeping him pinned against the wall. He swore to God that he would never leave Clark. Repeatedly. Clark turned him around and pulled him close, holding him and stroking his hair as Bruce struggled to piece himself back together. He felt crazed, exhausted, possibly on the brink of tears. Clark held him, kissed him. Told him he loved him.

Bruce didn't know how much more of this he could take. He also didn't know if he could give it up.

Clark dressed himself and handed Bruce his pants.

"I suppose you should get back to your meeting."

Bruce just nodded.

Clark grinned. "I'm sorry, Bruce, but there is no way that those people aren't going to know that you just got lucky."

Bruce carefully tucked in his shirt. "I'm sure that won't shock any of them."

Clark stepped toward Bruce, holding his necktie. He went to work tying it for him while Bruce just watched.

"You're tired," Clark observed.

"Can't imagine why."

Clark finished the knot and admired his handiwork. Bruce would have to fix it later.

"How are you feeling, Clark?"

"Me? I've never felt better. Really. It's incredible."

"Still full of energy, then?"

Clark kissed him. "I'm afraid so. Is that a problem?"

"No."

"Good. Because I have big ideas for tomorrow."

This is normally where Bruce would protest that he had other things he needed to be doing. Instead he found himself saying "Seems like an awfully long wait."

Clark raised an eyebrow, "As they say, Bruce, good things come to those who wait."

Bruce smirked, pleased that he was able to end this encounter with a shred of dignity. He returned to the meeting, not bothering to fix his mussed hair. He felt good. He gave the guy across the table from him a wink as he sat down. The rest of the meeting was lost to him as he became engrossed in considering the possibilities that tomorrow would bring.


	5. Chapter 5

Another day, another meeting. This time the bi-monthly roundtable of the original seven League members. Certainly more interesting than the board meeting Bruce partially endured yesterday, but still not his first choice of places to be.

So far it was the most normal day of Bruce's week. He was comfortable in full Batman costume, discussing potential new recruits, and mistakes made on recent missions.

Sitting next to him, Superman seemed relatively normal too. Somewhat fidgety, perhaps. Bruce did his best to ignore him. If he so much as glanced at Clark it would remind him of what he would really like to be doing now. Considering the telepath sitting across from him, that would be really bad.

"I think we should discuss Huntress," J'onn said, "She's been increasingly reckless since the League disbanded her. I fear she may be a danger to herself. I wonder if we should be watching her more closely."

"I have been," Bruce said in a tone meant to end any further discussion on the matter, "She'll be fine."

Bruce felt a hand on his leg, just above his knee. He was glad his eyes were hidden to his teammates.

"What about The Question?" John asked, "I'm going to be frank here and say that he weirds me out."

"Better to have him on our side," Superman pointed out, his voice completely normal, as if he wasn't firmly sliding a hand up the inside of Batman's thigh, "Besides, we need him researching Cadmus."

"But didn't we ask him to do that months ago? Have we learned anything new yet?" Wally asked, "It just seems that he's just doing what Bats could do in half the time."

"Or Elongated Man," Diana added.

It was all Bruce could do to keep from jumping up as he felt a fingernail slice through the heavy material on his inner thigh. A hand pushed through the new opening, warm against his skin. Fingers gliding up to his crotch, teasing.

"I..." Bruce stammered, "I don't have time to do everything. I have full confidence in The Question. Give him time."

Bruce needed to stay focused on the meeting. Needed to think unsexy thoughts. He kept his eyes on Wally. That should help.

"If Batman says Question is the man for the job, then that's good enough for me," Superman said, still perfectly calm. No indication of what was happening below the table. Bruce did a frantic run-down of the various superpowers present in the room. No x-ray vision except Clark, but there was still that damn telepathy.

Right. This couldn't happen. Not here. Not now. He gripped Clark's hand with his own and pulled it off his leg. Clark responded by weaving their fingers together tightly.

There was no way Batman was going to hold hands with Superman during this meeting. He chanced a quick glance at Clark, who was facing forward, seemingly listening to Diana list off charitable functions they had been invited to attend.

"I think we should start sending some of the other members to those," Superman suggested, "It will give the public a chance to feel comfortable with them. A lot of members are virtually strangers to them." As Clark was saying this, Bruce's hand was pulled over onto his lap and pressed hard into Clark's erection. Bruce kept his face as straight as possible, but he was losing the ability to keep his mind clean. All the ways he would punish Clark for this.

"It also wouldn't be a bad idea for Batman to make some charitable appearances," Superman added, his hand back on Bruce's lap.

"That's not going to happen," he replied shortly, running his knuckles up the bulge in Superman's shorts. Bruce felt him flinch, and he couldn't keep his lips from twitching into a satisfied smile.

"I don't know what you have against people liking you," Superman said, circling a finger around Bruce's cock. Bruce bit his lip, hoping it would appear to the others that he was simply annoyed, and not two seconds away from jumping Clark right here.

"Yes you do," he managed to say.

"Well...I could listen to this argument all day," John said, shooting them a strange look, "But I think we're done here. Unless anyone else has something they'd like to bring up."

Bruce fucking dared anyone to speak. It must have shown on his face because no one said a word.

"Alright then," John continued, "Meeting adjourned until next time."

"Superman, I would like to talk privately with you, if you have some time," Bruce said, standing.

"I suppose I could make time for that. Would now be alright?"

"Now would be perfect."

Bruce walked quickly out of the room, with Clark following closely. It was all Bruce could do to keep from grabbing him by the cape and pulling him along. His chambers were close, but not close enough.

Finally at the door and Bruce struggled to remember his security code as he felt Clark breathing on his neck.

Door open and all bets were off. It hadn't even fully closed before Bruce pulled Clark into him.

"That wasn't very nice, Superman," he breathed between furious kisses.

"You didn't seem to mind."

Bruce didn't respond. Just pushed Clark onto the bed, his red cape spread out beneath him. He quickly undid Superman's pointless belt and hauled the shorts and tights down. Bruce didn't bother to remove anything. The cape, the gloves, the mask all stayed on as he swallowed Clark's beautiful cock.

"Oh Jesus, yes Bruce! So good like this...so fucking good."

A gloved hand slid up Clark's thigh to cup his balls and he cried out like he'd been burned.

"God, Bruce. The gloves. That feels..." his words melted into whimpers as Bruce stroked with leather fingers. Bruce sucked harder, swallowing hard, relentless. It was as if some of the Sun's energy had been transferred to Bruce. He was ravenous, crazy, determined to reduce the Man of Steel to nothing but trembles and moans.

Since Clark liked the gloves so much, Bruce slid his mouth off his cock and replaced it with a hand. Clark arched and yelped. Leather fetish. Who knew?

Bruce pumped his fist faster, coaxing Clark by letting him know exactly how hard he intended to fuck him after. Clark only able to form fragments of words at this point.

Both fists slammed into the mattress as Clark came into Bruce's hand. Bruce smiled and stood. He pulled off the wet gloves and dropped them to the floor. Next the cape and cowl, then the belt. He continued the slow striptease while Clark watched intently, chest still heaving.

"Was that good for you?" Bruce asked sardonically.

"Jesus, Bruce. You have no idea. You'd better not be lying about what you were saying."

"What? About fucking you?" Bruce pulled off his boots. "No. That's definitely happening."

Clark sat up, detached his cape and let it fall to the bed. He pulled off his shirt as Bruce did the same. Soon both costumes were off, leaving black leather strewn amongst red and blue on the floor.

"Now, where's that lube that magically follows you wherever you go?" Bruce asked.

"Pocket in the cape," Clark grinned.

"Seriously?" Bruce grabbed the cape, felt the pocket and removed the tiny bottle. Seriously.

He turned Clark onto his stomach and straddled him. He pressed a hand into Clark's back as he slowly entered him. Clark loudly sucked in a breath.

"You didn't honestly think I would let you keep invading my life like this and not take what I want, did you?" Bruce rumbled.

"No," Clark breathed, "God, Bruce. I want it too."

"Good." He leaned in and made small bites on Clark's shoulder blades. Invulnerable skin, unable to register pain, but Clark still shuddered with each one. Just like he gasped each time Bruce thrust inside him.

He held Clark down, fucking him and whispering in his ear. No control over what he was saying. Telling him how crazy he made him. How important this was. That they would save the world together. That Bruce would never let him become what he feared he would. That Bruce believed in Clark's heart.

Clark made quiet noises against the mattress. Bruce was so close, never wanting release more than right now. Feeling it build with each movement, curling through his body, clenching his muscles, burning his eyes. So close. One more and Bruce fell to pieces, collapsing on Clark in a ragged heap.

He remained still for a minute, listening to Clark breathing beneath him. He slid down onto the mattress, wrapping an arm around his lover. He kissed his neck, and Clark turned so he could have his mouth.

They lay together on the bed in silence, Bruce gently stroking Clark's hair. Soon Bruce realized that the other man was asleep. Finally exhausted.

They had never actually _slept_ together. Even before Clark's trip to the Sun their encounters had been brief and frantic. Wedged into their busy lives whenever possible. Bruce closed his eyes and breathed Clark in, loving him. He could justify a short nap. He certainly needed it.

Bruce fell asleep smiling, wondering if Clark would be embarrassed about the past few days when he woke up. He certainly hoped so. It would make what he was planning a lot more fun.


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman gets his revenge.

Clark was having a bad day.

Perry gave him so many edits to his latest story, he may as well start over again. Lois wouldn't shut up about his bad posture, her voice grating him to the point that he used too much pressure and broke his pen. Now his hand was covered in blue ink. The breakfast burrito he grabbed on the way to work was frankly terrible, and it had taken forever to get it. Plus he was itchy right in the middle of his back, and no amount of superpowers would help that.

Beyond all this, he was carrying the complete and utter embarrassment of his...well, _randy_...behavior over the past few days. It wasn't that he regretted it exactly. And Bruce hadn't seemed to mind. It was just that...he couldn't believe he actually did and said those things.

Making it worse was the fact that he hadn't spoken to Bruce since he...calmed down. The last of the excess solar energy had left him during the last time that they...did what they did.

The last time...Bruce was on top. In the Watchtower. Bruce had been sucking his...

And there goes another pen. Great.

He wiped the ink on his pants because he really didn't care anymore. Like he ever managed to keep a pair of pants for more than a day or two anyway.

He went to check his email only to have his computer freeze. He glared at it, trying to decide which method of destroying it would be the most satisfying. Before he could decide, his thoughts were interrupted by his buzzing earpiece. It was Bruce.

"Superman, something big has come up. Can you get away?"

"Where are you?" Clark asked quietly.

"Gotham. How soon can you get here?"

"I'm on my way. Give me a minute."

Clark stood up and walked casually to the storage closet, the same way he had done countless times before. A mission. Good. It would give him a chance to see Bruce without it being too awkward. They would be too busy to think about...what they had done...repeatedly.

Clark glanced around before slipping into the dark closet. He had already gotten his shirt open before he noticed the other man in there with him.

"Surprise."

"Bruce! But...I thought...Gotham...emergency."

"I lied about Gotham," Bruce said calmly, "But I never said anything about an emergency."

"You said something...big...came up..." Clark was probably blushing. Definitely. But Bruce's hands were on him, pushing him against the wall.

"Bruce! I'm at work! Someone could find us!"

"You didn't seem bothered about that last week. At the Watchtower. Either time."

Clark was too embarrassed to say anything to that, so it was a good thing that Bruce was kissing him.

"You know you can touch me, right?" Bruce glared at Clark hands, which were being held just over Clark's head against the wall like he was surrendering.

"I...I'll get ink on you," Clark said lamely.

"Jesus Christ, Kent," Bruce growled, grabbing Clark's wrists and firmly placing his hands on his hips before continuing to kiss him.

"Bruce," Clark said when he got a chance, "I just want to say...I'm sorry about last week. I wasn't myself."

"Don't be sorry. I'm sure as hell not."

"I..."

Bruce cut him off. "If you ask me, you were yourself, Clark. I think you had been wanting that, but were too scared to take it before."

Any words of protest Clark was planning were lost in the back of his throat as Bruce ran strong fingers down the front of Clark's pants.

"That's the difference between you and me, Clark. I always take what I want."

"What do you want?" Clark murmured, eyes closed. His mind had left town and his body now belonged to Bruce.

"I want you to know what it's like to be cornered at work," Bruce said, biting Clark's ear, "To be turned on to the point of insanity, and having to keep quiet so your co-workers won't hear. But they'll know, Clark. When you go back to your desk, your face flushed, your eyes wild, smelling like sex. They'll know. But they won't know who."

"Bruce..." was all Clark could say. The word hissed out of him like it was scorching hot as Bruce unzipped Clark's fly.

"They'll wonder why the nerdy reporter just got lucky, but they won't know that Superman just got fucked by Batman in the supply closet."

"Please, Bruce..."

All three layers of Clark's pants were down. Bruce casually removed his own suit jacket and hung it on a hook, then rolled up his sleeves.

"First," Bruce said, his voice a low rumble that Clark couldn't get enough of, "I'm taking this."

He dropped to his knees and took Clark's cock in his mouth. Clark cried out loudly before shoving his hand in his mouth. Bruce. Sucking. Work. Jesus.

Bruce performed blowjobs the same way he did everything: perfectly. Better than anyone else on the planet. Like he had invented, wrote the book, and was the all-knowing master of blowjobs. And Clark was lucky enough to be his subject. No matter how many times they did this, Clark could not believe how incredible it felt. He knew they shouldn't be doing this here, but if anyone walked in on them - or did anything that so much as interrupted what Bruce was doing for a second - Clark could not guarantee that he wouldn't light them on fire. This was too good. Batman - The Dark Knight - on his knees. Ripping him apart with every stroke of his hot tongue. Every flash of his intense, steel eyes.

Clark ripped his glasses off and threw them to the floor. One hand landed in Bruce's hair, applying careful pressure. His head hit the wall, knocking something off a shelf to the left of him. Whatever it was hit the ground with a noisy clatter. He bit his lip, praying that no one heard that. Bruce didn't flinch. Just kept licking and sucking as Clark struggled to keep himself quiet. Every muscle, every nerve on fire as raw heat curled through his body. It made him shake, threatened to burst out of him, splitting him. He couldn't contain it, not if Bruce kept moaning around Clark's cock, his hands on Clark's hips, wet heat moving faster, pulling tighter...

...stopping. Bruce stopped. Why had Bruce stopped? This was just...no. There was no way he could stop now. Clark tried to form the words to explain this to Bruce, but he was cut off before he could get started.

"That's enough of that," Bruce said smoothly. Smirking. Bastard. "My turn."

When Bruce entered him, Clark almost lost it completely. A hand reached around and gripped his tortured cock. And, yes, this was better. Bruce was right. Bruce was always right. Each thrust shattered Clark's mind just a little bit more.

Voices. Right outside the closet door. Oh God. Clark didn't mean to, but he instinctively switched to x-ray vision. He saw Alan and Sharon from the sports section. Standing. Right. There. Inches away, only a door between them, and now Clark's unique vision had removed that obstacle. He saw the whole office around them, he and Bruce fucking in the middle of all his co-workers. Invisible to all of them, but, God, it looked like they were on display. This was so incredibly wrong, and Clark shouldn't be so turned on.

He didn't switch his vision back as Bruce continued to slam into him. He tried not to think about how dirty he felt. Or how much he liked feeling that way. Soft, manicured fingers kept a firm grip on his cock, and he was going to totally lose it in a second.

Clark saw Perry White walk by the closet door as he came hard, biting his lip because making any noise right now would be so awful. And god damn Bruce because Clark never wanted to come while looking directly at Perry White. Ever. More hard thrusts and Clark whimpered as Bruce bit down on his shoulder and came inside him. Arms pulled tight across Clark's heaving chest.

"Oh my God," Clark whispered, "Oh my God."

"You can call me Bruce."

"No. That was so... _wrong_. It was..."

"Dirty?"

" _Filthy_! I...I could see the whole office. I could see...Perry! Oh my _God_!"

"You were using your x-ray vision? That is naughty, Superman." Bruce kissed his neck.

Clark turned to face him. "You are pure evil."

"You tied me to my bed while I was asleep."

Clark blushed. He knew that he'd done that, but still couldn't believe it.

"Well, now we're even," Clark said nervously as he dressed himself.

"Hmmm...by my count, five to one is not even. Since I'm the smart one, we'd better trust my math."

"Bruce, I..." he was cut off by a hard, possessive kiss.

"You'd better get back to work, reporter." Bruce said, eyes gleaming.

"Pure evil," Clark repeated, returning his glasses to his face.

"Oh, and Clark," Bruce said as Clark went for the doorknob, "Keep your schedule open."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


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